Occult Fan

Master no Self

Month: October, 2016


broke upon the milling stone

clavicle quatrain return to the ovoid again

now we are a world

and alive

and a soul enters body that is made up of spirit and we

are alive one more time

and we are feeling the pain

and we are forgetting that we

are eternal and we are only acting




act age

age of acting of action kings and kind til aging again

and again


it’s only


only an eternity

I’m only

I’m only alive while you’ve alive reading this and we die

we die we die we die we die we return to the artifice

was only a story

a loving memory











Gnomish Bread

honey she said

I’m gonna cut your throat

and bleed you senseless

put you out where you belong

amongst the otter and the swan

body rotting all cold year long

never to be found


sweetheart he whispered

between sips of sangria

and hits of deep blue smoke

you’ve already killed me

and I’m here already

haunting you

you wept in my graveyard

contempt for regret

I stormed your open psyche

and took hold of your neuralnet

syncopated with your rhythms

my spirit overcame

I run you from the inside now

the real inside

from whence you -really- came


honey she said

I’ve slit your ghostwire’s throat

you have no hold

over my mind nor my hopes

I forgot about you

a long time ago

the person I’m talking to

is only a ghost

that I only thought of for a moment

a brief sharp note

then I came to my senses

and transformed mirrorwise to a wolf

In an Ocean, My

we fuck in an ocean of blood

wet gorging cavities adult in stabbing and pulsing our reasons for being so close and hushed in-between our eyes and minds and corpses walking in carnal dance one another

wet toppling this diamondesque distraction corpus sizzling high friction ratio to feel the neuronal trigger relapse recourse fire screaming from the basal ganglia to the pleasure response

we fuck in an ocean of blood, my love


It hurts not to die

but to lose the one you love

there is no balm for this burn

no salve for this suture-seeking schism

I hold hope yet yet

for my Juliette Marionette

my albigensian whore

my Scorched Earth Redeemer

cannot conceive nor comprehend

This Nathan Lee doth wrote your end

but no one will see

it and I am to hear it but

yet I still hang close on the edge

of the staircase moonway right up the everpath now

beautiful summer hands

kiss my head and stretch my heart strings

she kisses me and all I can hear are the sounds of the ocean swinging

Are Possible [You]

I wish you were my wife

I’ll hold you up above the ground

kiss your forehead and crown

make you come like heaven cloud

sweet innocent good one

my flower in the field of being

my heart amongst frozen winter fiends

I am your hero, your husband, your father, your hero

I wish you were my wife

I’d collect you

like dewdrops in the morning

like animal skins in the freezing

like votes in the election

like credits in a million year collection

I wish you were my wife

your hair color

your hand shape

your arms and legs

your ass and tits

your heart and brain

your smell and eyes

your mind and heart

you you you you you you you you

Drink Up Baby

high words from needs to satisfy

just want to have fun be free

kill the boredom with new love

holy fierce christ is my fang

your throat butchered and you like it

tell me AGAIN

do it again

bring me to completion

my high holy Lion break thy soul

you know

what I know

and we are

Sovereign Septagenuit Supremes